Whispers of Secrets
by Black-Cotton
Summary: Bella has a secret that she's willing to die for. She endures pain and suffering to keep this secret unknown. She left Edward a few years back, but to her stubborness, she's looking for him again. Or, she will be. Why? And what is the secret? E
1. Preview

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings—Stephenie Meyer does.

**Whispers of Secrets**

My secret.

My curse.

I can't tell a soul.

I can't free my own tongue.

I'm bound to something that will cost a life.

I'm bound to something that's so embedded in me; I can't seem to disown it.

That turning point came and went, walking away without final farewells.

It leaves me with nothing but soundless screams and wordless threats.

It leaves me with agony that says 'I love you'.

It gives me a hushed language of broken promises.

It gives me a broken heart that is beyond repair.

There is no mercy.

No empathy.

Understanding is out of the picture.

The only knowledge is that this is my secret.

My curse.

My _life_.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the following characters and settings.

Chapter 1 

"Honey, I'm getting gas for the car right now. Please be patient," I said, my voice pleading.

"I've _been_ patient! I want you home right now, Bella. If you aren't here by seven, I swear I'll--"

I hung up on Dave, knowing I'd be getting a punishment tonight. My hands were shaking. Crap, I knew I shouldn't have done that. If I wasn't home in fifteen minutes…

I picked up the pace in the parking lot of the gas station, nearly tripping over myself. As soon as I opened the swinging door, a wave of cold air washed over me. I was momentarily grateful for the air conditioning.

My heart pounded a million miles per second. _Hurry, Bella._ I jogged down isle three, snatching a Snickers bar and looked for something else that might satisfy Dave. My gaze zigzagged across the shelves. Anything would due. Oh hell, I snatched another Snickers bar and turned.

All of my breath whooshed out me in an audible sigh.

Holy crow.

Esme stood next to me, picking up a bag of Sour Skittles. She was as beautiful as ever. Her dark chocolate eyes skimmed to shelf, just as I had. Brown curls spiraled out of her perfect pulled back hair. My mind froze. Someone who I hadn't seen in years was standing right in front of me.

"Esme?" I didn't have much voice, but I knew she heard me.

She turned in my direction. I watched as confusion overwhelmed her heart-shaped face. She was silent, and then she opened her mouth. "Do I know you?"

I gaped. I hadn't aged _that_ much. Besides, wouldn't she have recognized the smell of my blood?

Something passed over her. Suddenly, realization swept over her features. She smiled, but it was strained. "Bella."

"What are you doing here?" This wasn't happening. If the Cullen's had wanted to avoid any run-ins, this wouldn't have happened. I was stumped.

Her gaze fell on my arm. A sad smile replaced the previous one. "Still clumsy as always?"

I looked down. The bruise I had earned was starting to heal from the other day. I quickly jerked the sleeve of my shirt to my wrist. "No—I mean yes. Yes, I am still clumsy." I laughed, but I could hear an edge to it. Esme did too, as she lifted her eyebrows. I shook my head, letting it go. "How… how is the family?" I asked, but I really only wanted to know how _he _was doing.

Esme looked at her watch. "Oh, sweetie, look at the time. I need to go pick up groceries."

I looked at her, bewildered. "But you guys don't eat--"

"I have to go." She walked passed me. At once, she was frantic. Her movements were brisk as she went up to the cashier and paid for her things.

_Wait_, I wanted to say. _Don't leave. Give me another chance…_

The woman who could've been my mother walked out of the door. The bell jingled, signaling someone had left.

I swallowed, realizing this time it wasn't me.

---

I stood outside of my apartment, late by ten minutes. He would be furious.

I studied the two Snicker bars that I bought earlier, both cupped in my hand. Hopefully they would work. I doubted it, though.

My other hand engulfed the door handle. I opened it, not at all ready for this.

"Where were you?"

I walked through the door. My hands were shaking again. "Gas station," I whispered.

"That took you _twenty-five_ minutes?"

The door was behind me now. I leaned against it so it would shut. "Mmhmm." I knew my voice would define the fear I held in myself if I had said any real vocabulary.

Dave trapped me with his arms on either side of me. "Why do you make me mad, Bella?"

I didn't answer; maybe because I had no answer, or maybe it was because I was struck by the momentum of his hand.

My husband's hands wrapped around my shoulders, grasping them so hard I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. Dave doesn't like screaming. "Answer me!"

I managed to put my hands up to protect my face, but this time it was a blow to the stomach.

"When I tell you to come home, then _come home._"

I slid my back against the door, clutching to my mid-section. The Snicker bars dropped to the floor.

He let go of me then, going to our room and slamming the door.

I let the tears fall. I had tasted freedom today by seeing Esme. I could've told her. I could've sobbed in her arms while she calmly rubbed my back like the mother I've always wanted.

I could've, but I didn't.

---

"I'm so sorry," Dave mumbled, cradling me in his arms. "Oh God, don't cry anymore. I'm sorry, Bella." He was the one crying as he buried his head in my chest.

My hand came up to stroke his hair. "Shh," I hushed him. "I'm fine."

"I'm such a bad husband. I don't deserve you." He spoke in a sincere voice.

"You're a great husband. You just…" I trailed off, not finishing my sentence. He didn't urge me to, so I left it like it was.

---

I woke up the next morning with Dave's arm draped over my waist. His tears were still wet. I wondered if he noticed it while he slept.

I gently removed his arm, not wanting to disturb him. When I got up, I looked for a shirt and pulled it over my tank top. I pulled down the long sleeves, trying to hide the evidence.

Another day.

Another day that I've successfully hidden my secret.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that are in Twilight and New Moon.

Chapter 2 

Esme's POV

The reasons behind my actions were not to buy Sour Skittles. In fact, I had just seen them on the shelf and decided to pick them up as part of my disguise. Obviously, Bella had remembered too much.

When I caught site of the bruise on the bend of her arm, I just knew. There was no more guessing, or doubting. This was the real thing. I had to escape before the memories of my past flooded back.

I had been abused, too. My arranged marriage was not a fairy tale—more like a nightmare. I would have loved for anything, but it was the wrong man. Back then; it could only be spoken by soft whispers on the lips of women who didn't give a damn. It was nothing but gossip for them. But for me, it was much, much more.

It was happening again; this time to someone I loved.

I couldn't sit on the sidelines, watching Bella waist away. Yes, she had hurt my family—even more with my son—but this was unacceptable.

---

Carlisle stared at me with concerned eyes. They were so intense I had to look away. "Something's wrong," he concluded quietly. He sat next to me on the edge of the bed, not making a sound. I knew he was patiently waiting.

I turned my head to an angle that fit between the crevice of his neck and shoulder. "Yes," I whispered. "Something is terribly wrong." I closed my eyes, listening to the hum of his breathing.

"Tell me," he whispered back. "I hate seeing you so sad."

I felt his hand lightly settle on the arch of my cheek. I leaned into, inviting the comfort. "It's Bella."

He didn't hesitate, as I had planned, but instead lightly stroked my skin with the edge of his thumb.

"She's hurting; very much so." I could feel myself frowning.

We both sat in silence with ease.

Finally, I broke. "She's being abused," I sobbed. I shifted so that I could burry my face in his chest. I wanted him to hold me and take away the pain, like a doctor should. "Carlisle, she's suffering! Not just physically, but emotionally… Oh, the look in her eyes." As had expected, no tears came. They never did. But it was terrifying to see my past in the present.

Carlisle held me and cupped a hand around my head. "Shh, it's alright." He cooed.

"We have to do something!"

"You visited Bella?" He asked, running a hand through my hair.

"Yes, Alice told me of a vision. I had to come see it for myself…she was right."

"Does Edward know?"

"Absolutely not. We've been carefully avoiding it in our thoughts."

I could feel him sigh. "We need to tell him," he said, his voice gruff. "He's bound to find out, and it's not good to keep secrets in our family."

I nodded. "When?"

"As soon as possible. Come, Esme, we've got some planning to do."


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Stephenie Meyer's characters.

**Chapter 3**

_Bella's POV_

I leaned against the counter, watching as Dave ate the Snickers bar I bought for him yesterday.

"I need to go to the post office today." He said, his mouth full.

"But it's Sunday," I protested, my voice soft.

He looked up from the newspaper, his eyes dull. "Oh, yeah. Never mind, then. But we need some bread; so I'll go to the grocery store." His gaze averted back to the sports section.

I turned my head, pursing my lips as I looked at the full loaf of bread that sat next to me, still wrapped in plastic. "Okay," I said, and slowly slid the bread behind my back, pretending I never saw. It was never there.

Dave got up, throwing away the candy wrapper and neatly folded the newspaper in a stack. He walked to me and put his hands around my waist.

I leaned my chin on his shoulder, smiling slightly. "I'm going to miss you," I whispered.

"I'm just leaving for a little bit, honey. I'll be back soon." His lips were like butterflies along my neck. I titled my head to the side, giving him more room to work with.

---

The doorbell rang.

I set the Comet down and took off the yellow gloves. The bathroom still looked like a catastrophe. There was bleach everywhere, combing away the smell of blood from a couple nights ago.

I sighed and headed to the door.

When I opened it, I saw an angel.

I was struck below the belt, but not in a physical way.

"Edward," I managed to get out. Two visits in two days. This had to be bad.

He was clutching the rim of the door. I could faintly hear a growl rumble in the pit of his chest, rising to a climax.

Was he mad at me?

"Where is he?" He ground out.

"W-who?" I stuttered. It'd been so long since I had heard his growl. When I had first left, I had to give up the hallucinations, knowing it'd be too painful if I let it go on.

"_Him_." He couldn't seem to get the name out. When he finally raised his lowered head, I saw his eyes were black.

"At the grocery store," I replied, wishing I hadn't said it already.

Something seemed to lift off of him. The hands that clutched the doorway slowly seemed to descend to his sides. "I need to talk to you."

I silently opened the door, watching him stroll into my living room.

Edward started to pace. "I know you're in a difficult situation."

He knows. I looked at him, horrified. How does he know? Who told him?

Confusion clouded his beautiful face. "Bella, why? Why do you put up with this?"

Finally, I had to chance to talk to someone about this--someone who would accept me for who I was. He would protect me. _But I didn't answer._

He grabbed my hand and started to drag me out of the door. "C'mon, you're getting out of this place."

I snatched my hand back, "No!"

Edward turned back to me with an expression that made me ask myself if I was crazy. "Why?"

"Because I love him."

There was silence before he answered, "You love a man who hit's you every night—who treats you like--"

"Yes! Yes, I do!" I screamed, cutting him off before he could go on. I breathed heavily, trying to calm myself down. The next time I spoke, it was no more than a whisper, "You don't understand. He's a nice person… but there's something wrong with him."

"There's going to be _more_ than one thing wrong with him by the time I get through to that bastard," He hissed.

"Please, stop," I begged.

Edward glanced at me for a second before nodding. "Fine," he said, walking to the door. He hesitated, then turned and grabbed my hand.

I jumped, feeling the faintest of sparks. I was amazed, seeing as there was still chemistry between us. But now was not the time.

He put a piece of paper in my hand. I had never noticed he had it in the first place. "It's the address," he explained. "I'll be in Alaska with my family. If you change your mind… come as soon as you can." The back of his free hand gently ran across my cheek. "I need to get out of here before he gets back. I have a feeling you wouldn't be too happy if I killed your husband." I shuddered.

I _wanted_ to go with him—but I _needed_ to stay here. Was it such a sin that I loved two men?

I closed my eyes and felt a soft breeze.

He was gone.

---

Dave walked through the back door, tiptoeing to our bedroom because I was "sleeping" on the couch.

"Hey," I said, my voice groggy. Did it take nine hours to go grocery shopping for some bread?

"Sorry I'm late, I went out with some buddies."

I got up off of the couch and opened my arms in an invitation for a hug.

He wrapped his arms around me.

I could smell the booze. But that wasn't the only aroma; perfume rippled across my senses.

I ignored it, imagining it had to be a friendly hug from one of the wives of his buddies.

"I love you," he said.

"I know."


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters from Twilight/New Moon—Not I.

**Chapter 4**

Bella's POV

_Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?  
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts_.

Another day had passed, and then another and another. Before long, a week had passed, and then the week turned into two. These weeks turned into a month.

A month had passed.

Nothing had changed over the course of time—just my thoughts of the Cullen family.

How dare they barge into my life like that—and then nearly forcing me out of the life I had built myself. _You did a great job at doing that, _I thought to myself coyly. Did they expect me to just forget all of my responsibilities and run along with them in the eerie forest?

The pickle jar I held in my hands wasn't opening.

If they thought I could just leave Dave out of the blue then they've got something coming to them. So long as I live, I would never disappear from my world. There's just too much that would be left undone.

The damn pickle jar just isn't turning. I watched as my knuckles turned white while clutching it.

What was Edward to look at me like I was crazy when I said I loved Dave? I _do_ love Dave! He's just jealous; yeah, that's it. Dave was a good man. He'd never hurt me intentionally. In fact, what's wrong with a few bruises and a couple of cuts? _Nothing_, I answered to myself.

"Damnit! Stupid pickle jar!" I threw it across the room and observed in slow motion as it collided with the wall. It exploded into a million ruins of glass. My hand came up to cover my mouth.

_So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,  
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess._

"What's all the racket?"

I watched as the door to our room opened painfully slow.

"I was… just opening a pickle jar." I hurried to the mess, picking up all the little shards. They bit at my skin as I did the task in haste.

Despite my futile attempts to please Dave, it would never be enough.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a foot came up to kick me in perfect aim to my ribs. I flipped so my back grazed the pieces of glass instead of my face.

I could smell the blood. It became another candidate for my bleaching skills.

_And we are so fragile,  
And our cracking bones make noise,  
And we are just,  
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys._

"Be quiet while I'm sleeping," Dave said, his voice raspy. He retired back to the room.

I turned my head to the floor, absently watching as the glass reflected against the light to make it look like snow.

My hand slid into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out a little piece of paper. It aged from how many times I've opened and folded it.

My eyes skimmed over the perfect calligraphy, stating the address that told where Edward was.

If I wanted to leave; I would have to leave now. I wouldn't have time to pack my clothes or take a shower.

I pushed myself up, not bothering to even look at the remains of the pickle jar. I grabbed the keys to the car, and silently walked out of the door.

As I turned the keys in the ignition, I smiled slightly and said goodbye to Dave only in my head.

_You fasten my seatbelt because it is the law.  
In your two ton death trap I finally saw._

I drove to the stop sign and looked at my bloody hands that were locked on the steering wheel. Funny, blood didn't irk me as much anymore.

And then I stepped on the gas pedal so I could make the tires squeel. I'd always wanted to do that like in the movies.

_A piece of love in your face that bathed me in regret.  
Then you drove me to places I'll never forget._

I drove from state to state, eventially crossing Canada. Goodbye, Forks. Goodbye, Dave. Of course, I'd visit Charlie.

For the first time in a long lapse, I witnessed the sunset and sunrise. It was beautiful.

But when I entered the borders of Alaska, I entered a differen't universe. Mountains surrounded me in a full 360 degree turn. Luckily it was summer, giving me the gift of nice temperature.

I put my hand out the window. The air was fresh, not polluted. Everything had the sweet taste of freedom. I loved it.

_And we are so fragile,  
And our cracking bones make noise,  
And we are just,  
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys._

_---_

The song above is Breakable, by Ingrid Michaelson.

What'd you think? Review, please. I need to know my stregths and weaknesses.


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